


The Man with The Golden Shadow

by QueerLeFay



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic, Awesome Morgana, BAMF Merlin, Light Angst, M/M, Magic Centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 10:41:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5624155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueerLeFay/pseuds/QueerLeFay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It took him and it gave him an illusion of freedom and he was lost inside of himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Man with The Golden Shadow

He was lost. 

He wasn’t lost in the sense that he was somewhere he did not recognize – a new place, a foreign forest, a remote terrain he never visited before, no – he was lost in the sense that he could not see nor feel anything from his surroundings.

He woke up, not long ago, with the sluggishness of a person that just had a long languid sleep to a scene of pure white lights streaming endlessly, wrapping everything in his purview with intense brightness. He stretched out his hands, then, trying to feel for anything solid, but there was nothing but a glimmer of warmth every now and then; caressing, stroking his arms tenderly. He could feel no fear; there was only calmness and tranquillity from deep within him, blanketing him with warmness.

He let go of a long, deep, satisfied sigh and closed his eyes.

\-----

“There has been no change, Sire.”

Arthur looked up from where he wrung his fingers together. He hadn’t had much rest lately, what with all that has been happening, and at that moment, all of the exhaustion caught up to him.

“But you have found out the nature of his…condition?” he asked, eyes raking over the figure in front of them.

“Perhaps,” Gaius exhaled a long, raged breath. “I could not know for sure, Sire. He is…he has always been a special case and I would not be surprised if what is happening now has never happened before.”

Arthur couldn’t keep himself from smiling softly at that. “Of course he has to be that one special case.”

Gaius returned Arthur’s smile tiredly. The both of them had been driving themselves to the point of exhaustion regardless of the rare quietness in Camelot. There had been no war, no sudden bout of plague. The bandits had cleared off Camelot’s woods. The magical creatures had gone silent. It was odd, Camelot without any threats or danger – but so was what they had in front of them. 

“You should get some rest, Sire. You haven’t had enough rest for two days.” Gaius said after awhile, breaking the silence in the room.

Arthur hesitated, not wanting to leave in case something happened – a movement, a sound, anything but stillness.

“Alert me right away if any changes occur,” he finally said, breaking his gaze from where he was staring.

“I expect you to tell me any theories you may have first thing tomorrow,” he added as he and Gaius turned and left the room, locking it behind them – leaving the room with nothing but the gust of wind from the gaps in between the stones and the faint sound of electricity from the walls – where Merlin floated by the window, draped in pure white light and golden tendrils.

\-----

He had never felt like this before.

Happiness was something of a luxury for him, a feeling that was _just_ out of his reach. Freedom – too. He often associated happiness with freedom, and as freedom had almost always been retained from him even when he was just a toddler, he never really knew how pure, unadulterated happiness would feel like. Or contentedness. Those words just blended together inside of his head.

His magic crackled around him, a pulse like his own heart. He could not feel any trepidation regarding his magic. Not there, not then. He felt like he was finally free to do as he wanted, free to be who he always had been – a person with magic in his every cells, who craved every single day to use it like he would use a limb.

He laughed joyously, boyishly, as he stretched out his fingers and felt as the colour of his irises change.

\-----

The thumps of his feet were loud in the early morning. He wheezed out breaths after breaths, not used to the exertion in his old age. There was almost no one in the hallways, only a small cluster of maids and servants preparing for the day, and they stared at him curiously.

He opened the Prince’s chambers doors after a knock, wiping his sweat as he prepared his breath to talk.

“There was a new activity, Highness, just a few minutes ago.” Gaius puffed out once he was stood in front of the Prince’s table.

Arthur stopped his fingers from where they picked on the bread he was supposed to be eating, eyes widening in anticipation.

“What was it?”

“Butterflies. When I opened his bedroom door this morning, I saw the lights around him flared out a couple times and every time it happened, a band of butterflies would appear and flew out the windows, Sire.”

“A sudden influx of butterflies, especially at this time of the year would alert my father,” Arthur reflected, his face paled more than was possible.

“He’s surprisingly unobservant for things that happen right in front of his eyes,” a new voice interjected, “I am sure Gaius would be able to make out some feasible reasons for that, wouldn’t you?”

“My Lady,” Gaius nodded his acknowledgment to Morgana. She smiled tightly, stepping into Arthur’s chambers without so much as a by your leave with Gwen in tow.

“He is lost,” she said again before Arthur could open his mouth to speak.

“Lost? He is in his own room!” Arthur exclaimed incredulously.

“I am sure you are not as much a fool as you make yourself to be right now, Arthur,” Morgana sniffed with staged disdain before sitting at the chair in front of him like it was her own throne.

Arthur narrowed his eyes, “I am sure you are prepared to lecture us with your wisdom.”

Morgana waved her hand impatiently towards Gwen and Gaius, gesturing at them to take their seats around Arthur’s table. Gwen looked scandalized for a while before obeying and sat gingerly next to Morgana.

“I am sure you are aware of his…gift by now,” Morgana raised her eyebrow at Arthur’s panicked expression.

“How did you know? Oh that oaf! I swear if you even breathed a word about this to…”

“No need for that, Arthur,” Morgana cut him off mid-rant, “He told me himself after he told you, which was a good move on his part. And mine. He helped me control some of my dreams, which you should also know by now, were no ordinary dreams.”

“I thought I told him not to…” Gaius gushed gravely under his breath, flushing at the look Morgana gave him.

“I am sure you have our best interests in forbidding Merlin from telling me, Gaius, but I’d really rather be aware of my own predicament. I can handle Uther, I can’t handle my own madness,” she said sharply. Gwen shuffled closer to her Lady, closing her hands on hers before dropping her hands back to her lap.

“I apologize, my Lady.” Gaius bowed slightly.

“Morgana, can we please go back to Merlin?” Arthur interjected.

“Right. Well, as I said, he is lost. His magic…his magic is strong, stronger than the average magic users – or at least that’s what I sensed,” Morgana looked at Gaius, silently asking for validation.

“That he is. The Druids believe that he is the strongest warlock to ever walk on Earth. Some even believe that he is magic itself. Emrys, they call him,” Gaius affirmed.

“Okay. Wow, that’s…unexpected,” Arthur said, stunned. “So…what has that got anything to do with his current…situation?” he then asked.

Morgana sighed and ran her hands through her hair exasperatedly, eyeing him like he was a simpleton. “Arthur…I despair for the future of Camelot if this is what her future King is like,” she sighed again, rather dramatically.

Arthur spluttered indignantly, “I am an excellent future King!”

Gwen coughed pointedly when Morgana opened her mouth to give a retort, “Merlin, Highnesses?” she said.

“Right. Well, seeing as you are _that_ clueless,” Morgana smirked at Arthur’s narrowed eyes, “I’m going to spell it out for you. Merlin’s magic is strong, no, his every being is magic and hence, it is in his very nature to use it – like it is in our nature to use our senses. Now here is what’s wrong. He is about to come of age, isn’t he?” Morgana asked Gaius again.

“In less than a fortnight,” he nodded in confirmation.

“His magic is strengthening. It can’t _not_ be used, it demands to be used. Merlin…he is strong, but he can get overwhelmed too.” Morgana’s voice cracked at the end of the sentence.

Arthur’s stunned to silence, the panic he has felt ever since he found Merlin floating at the corner of his room, unmoving, increased tenfold. It had been two – three, now – days since he stomped through the castle’s hallways, barging into Gaius’ chambers and Merlin’s room in a huff – because Princes aren’t supposed to have to look for their manservants – expecting Merlin to look up from his bed with his usual sheepish grin that never failed to make Arthur sighed heavily and forgave him anything he might have done wrong, but found Merlin trapped instead. Arthur scrubbed his face roughly, reining in the sudden bout of restless energy that turned into anger at everyone’s, including his own, uselessness.

“Sire, there’s another thing I must tell you,” Gaius began hesitantly; as if afraid Arthur might crack under the weight of whatever words Gaius might say next. “Merlin…he hasn’t eaten or drunk anything in almost three days. His magic might sustain him for now, but his body might not be able to continue for far longer than a week, a week and a half at most. As it is, I haven’t even considered the energy his magic draws from his body for his recent activities.”

Arthur blanched. He didn’t want to lose Merlin. He…he needed him and he knew, somehow, that he would irreparably be resentful towards magic if Merlin was taken away because of it, too. Just like it has taken away his mother.

“Why hasn’t Merlin used his magic?” Gwen asked timidly.

“I…I asked him not to. I was afraid he’d get caught,” Arthur chocked on his words, “he really is not as subtle as he likes to think he is. He…oh gods…” Arthur buried his face inside of his hands, the guilt and fear gnawing ferociously, unforgivingly.

“Oh Arthur,” Morgana sighed. Arthur winced, expecting an angry reproach on her face if he looked up at her, and was surprised when he saw her face softened by kindness and understanding and sympathy.

"Why didn't he tell me anything?" Arthur stood from his seat and paced around the room. Stupid, self-sacrificing Merlin.

"He didn't expect you to accept him, Sire, he must have felt that not using his magic is a small price to pay for your acceptance." Gaius smiled tentatively.

"I would have taken him to hunting trips if he really needs to channel out his magic," Arthur groused exasperatedly. It's true that Merlin and him didn't talk much about matters such as these, they will tease each other out of their reveries, sure, and Arthur would tell him about the problems he's having; but somehow, Merlin didn't really let the opposite to happen. He never really told Arthur about his problems, concerns about Arthur's wellbeing he will never shut his mouth, but stuffs concerning his own wellbeing? It's like trying to draw blood from a stone.

"Well, what's done is done. We need to focus on bringing Merlin back from his state right now," Morgana clucked her tongue, tapping her fingernails on the side of her seat. "I talked to the Druids yesterday," she said silently, looking at Arthur sheepishly.

"You did what? Did you walk out alone? That's reckless and dangerous, Morgana!"

"Druids aren't dangerous!"

"They might not be dangerous, but the areas surrounding their place are. You know well enough how bandit-laden the woods are!"

Morgana deflated, shrugging, “I just…I really need to find answers.”

“Did you at least get it?” Arthur pinched the edge of his nose.

“Yeah. I did,” she smiled proudly at her achievement before schooling her face again, “they said that we need to call him out from whatever false place his magic has created for him.”

“And how exactly are we supposed to do that? I have been screaming at his face for at least an hour everyday and he didn’t even so much as move an inch!”

“That’s because you need magic to reach him, dummy,” Morgana said with the same exasperation and nickname she used to use when they were little and before they hit their puberty.

“Am I to understand that you also already know how to do the magic?” Arthur challenged her with a lifted brow, just like he used to do when he was nothing more than a little, red-faced baby prince.

“Of course!”

\-----

Gaius opened Merlin’s door carefully, as if expecting a lost tendril of magic to lash out on them. But the room was as silent and broody as ever, with a little shine of light on the corners where Merlin hung, suspended in the air as if he was paused mid-fall.

Arthur took a long look at his figure, not for the first time feeling a rush of grudging affection for his manservant. He wasn’t supposed to feel the affection, nor should he have risked his father’s trust by protecting a warlock. And yet there he was, about to help the very warlock his father would flock him for if he ever found that Arthur had voluntarily harboured him; but he would never found out, obviously, just for the sake of Arthur’s own sanity.

“Alright, so how are we supposed to do this?” Arthur asked, turning his head away from Merlin. He would go crazy with more anger and restlessness if he stared at him any longer.

Gwen put a cushioned sit in front of Merlin and another one next to the first chair. She fluffed up the cushions with flourish and Arthur suddenly wondered if Merlin could ever actually bother to do that. He had to hold his snort at the thought; Merlin would only fluff cushions and pillows up if he were hard-pressed to do so, or if he was the one to use them.

“The druids said that the one to call him back to us should be the one he would probably miss the most, or, as they put it, his other half,” Morgana smirked as she looked at Arthur knowingly and he tried not to flush at her words, or the implications of her words, more like.

“Whatever,” he huffed as he took a seat. He was man enough to acknowledge that he was the man for the job. He had heard Merlin raved about destiny and coin metaphors enough time to know that they were bound at some level or another. He was also man enough to acknowledge his affection for Merlin, even if it was only in his head.

“So this is how this would work. I would chant some spells, nothing for you to worry about, and then you would fall asleep and that’s when you have to fight against Merlin’s protective magic. It would try to give you access to Merlin, but you have to find a way to make Merlin listen to you. Got it?” Morgana took the other seat in a more dignified fashion that Arthur did.

“Fall asleep, annoy Merlin until he reacts to me. Got it.”

“Alright. Here we go…”

\-----

His magic was so warm. It was one of the few things he realised in his freedom to play with it. He was never relaxed enough to actually feel the rush of magic in his skin, and to be allowed to slowly explore it made him so happy it was impossible.

He never wanted to leave this place. Wherever he was, he wanted to stay. And if it was just a wonderful dream, then he never wanted to wake up. This is where he was supposed to be, this is where he belonged. He didn’t have to think about being executed just for being him, or about a destiny he didn’t ask for.

Destiny. Right. He would not be able to help Arthur here, but surely Arthur could exist fine without him? He had survived well enough before he came along, after all, and he was not as much a fool as Morgana and him liked to think he was.

He started to feel a slight unease, wanting to check up on Arthur yet not wanting to leave this wonderful place all at the same time. And that’s when he felt something invading his happy place.

\-----

Arthur found himself in a forest filled with white-leafed trees and golden birds. He looked around, trying to find some bearings, but everywhere he looked there were only the trees and birds flying around. He took a step to his right, blindly navigating his way to wherever Merlin could be.

“Oh, hello,” he murmured when a little blue bird landed on his shoulder, chirping cheerfully, batting its wings around.

“Do you possibly know where I can find my wayward warlock?” he attempted, thinking that maybe, as he was in a land created by magic, the bird would understand him.

It cocked its head slightly before flying towards the opposite way and Arthur followed the bird eagerly. He walked passed a bent apple tree, where a smaller and dirtier version of Merlin’s neckerchief hung. He plucked out the neckerchief and continued on with his path. He encountered a lake next, clear and beautiful, where he heard echoes of Merlin’s laugh. He felt a pang in his chest; he didn’t even know that he had missed that sound.

The bird chirped loudly, snapping Arthur out of his thoughts, urging him on again. The next thing he saw was a charming cottage with flowerbeds and a row of little fences in front of it. He thought he could see Merlin inside of the cottage, doing his housework with his magic while laughing at something a dark-haired man next to him said. He looked happy; happy and content, and Arthur felt a sprung of jealousy; of a bitter feeling rolling inside of his stomach.

He forced his feet to march onwards, clutching on the neckerchief and anticipating the next thing he might see. He stopped dead on his track when he saw a wide cave with lights shining from inside of it. He looked at his guide, but the bird only chirped once and flew away towards the milky sky. Arthur took a deep breath and went inside.

“Merlin?” he called out, as the path lead him to the source of light.

He heard the same crackle in Merlin’s room before he actually saw the man - and he was beautiful. His golden eyes were looking down at his hands, where he played with fire and sparks of light. Arthur noticed how his feet weren’t touching the ground next, and how the golden tendrils were wrapped loosely around him, as though protecting him from whatever might harm him.

“Merlin,” he said again, hoping his voice would carry through the crackle.

Merlin dropped his hands at the sound of his voice, blue irises once again overpowered the gold and the tendrils wrapped tighter around him.

“Arthur?”

“Merlin…please come back,” he extended his hand, trying to reach him.

“Back where?”

“To me, to Camelot.”

Merlin’s face saddened at the mention of Camelot and he shook his head, “I don’t think I can, Arthur,” he said regretfully, coming closer to where Arthur stood.

Arthur felt his heart stop for a millisecond before it continued in a rapid beating, “why not?”

“Because I don’t feel happy there,” he said simply and Arthur felt his stomach drop.

“Have I made you that unhappy?”

Merlin frowned, reaching for Arthur’s face where he cupped his hands on Arthur’s cheeks, “Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous. It’s because I have to be in hiding, you see, it’s because I am constantly afraid and it makes me so frustrated. You have to understand, Arthur, I am happy here. I can use my magic as I wish. It’s like…it’s like I’ve been blind all my life and now I get the chance to see; it’s like I was deaf and now I could hear. It’s brilliant,” Merlin looked at Arthur, face filled with wonder.

“I am sorry that you feel miserable in Camelot, Merlin, but…”

“It’s not only Camelot though,” Merlin cut Arthur off, voice hardened with resentment, “it’s Ealdor and everywhere in between and more. It’s about everyone thinking that what I am is a monster. They don’t even know me but they’d think me a monster for being born with magic. It’s about them turning something as wonderful as magic into some twisted nightmare. They don’t see men with swords as evil even though they’ve also killed their fair share of innocent people, but one wrong move, one slight error from a magic user and everyone with it is evil. I am tired, Arthur, tired of having to constantly hold my tongue against those bigoted people for fear of my life. I don’t have to feel like that here. I am free here,” Merlin floated away, wrapping his arms around his body as closely as the golden tendrils did.

“I can change that,” Arthur said, trying to convince Merlin as much as he was trying to convince himself, “I can change that. Maybe not everywhere, maybe not soon, but I will. I will change that in Camelot when I am king and I will spread it to the five kingdoms. But Merlin, I need you. I need you now and I am going to need you later. I will need you to stand beside me and to guide me and to be a bridge between the magical community and everyone else. I will need you to help me make them understand everything you just said. So, please, come back. They need you too, Merlin; those children who are afraid of their own power, the men and women who are in hiding and ashamed of who they are, those who are attacking others in a misguided idea it would help them be free. I will build a just and safe kingdom for every citizens, but to do that, I have to have you by my side,” he reached out again, believing in his words as much as he believed he would be king.

Merlin stared at him, stunned. He had known that Arthur would be a great king, but he did not expect him to already think about it now. He stared down at Arthur, thoughts going a hundred miles per second.

“I want to be selfish,” Merlin said finally, casting his eyes towards Arthur, “I don’t want to have to let this freedom go over some hasty promises for the future. I can have this now, or I can go back and go away from Camelot to look for a place that will accept me right now,” he heaved a sigh, sad eyes looking deep into Arthur’s frightened ones, “but I can’t deny you, can I? Just…promise me this, Arthur…if enough years have passed in your reign where I still need to hide myself, you have to let me go.”

Arthur thought of the future, then, how he would make a kingdom that was safe for everyone – a just kingdom, a haven for those who seek it. It’s a beautiful thought, of course, but a little bit unrealistic. The road to that kingdom both Merlin and he wanted would be bumpy and full of roadblocks. There will be trials and errors. It would take a long time to get there; to change decades of stigma would be an arduous and tiring task. But…if he didn’t start it, things might never change and he didn’t want to have a kingdom where injustice was harboured.

“I promise,” he said. Merlin had said ‘enough years’; he didn’t give Arthur a timestamp. Maybe if he saw that Arthur was doing everything he could to make that ideal kingdom, then Merlin would stay with him anyway. And he would; Arthur would do everything in his power to make their dream a reality.

He saw Merlin’s smile and that was when everything went dark. 

\-----

Uther died the next summer.

Merlin tried, oh, how Arthur knew he tried; but he also knew that in some ways, they were relieved. In some ways, despite the sadness, underneath the fear of the future, they were all relieved. Morgana cried, he knew, but he also saw her heaved a breath – as if the burden weighting on her shoulders were lifted the moment Uther breathed his last breath.

He avoided both Merlin and Morgana for two days after, which was hard when Merlin practically lived in his rooms; but he guessed Merlin knew that he needed time, because he was conspicuously absent those two nights. He didn’t know how to act, didn’t know how to feel, because as much as he knew that with his father’s death a new era could finally begun, he was also losing a father.

Arthur did not cry, but it was a near thing.

\-----

Arthur often found Merlin looking through the windows, eyes glazed as if he was deep in thought – and he fret.

It was not a new thing; Merlin had often done just that ever since he came back from the world his magic created. He often had that faraway look, missing a time he could be careless and free.

Arthur was afraid that Merlin would disappear again – inside of his own magic, inside of his own mind. He knew that the long and arduous process of bringing magic back was getting on their nerves, and sometimes he could see the way Merlin recoiled from the thought of having to sit in another meeting full of accusations and sharp glances casted towards him. That’s why Arthur could not begrudge him the reprieve of his own mind.

\-----

Merlin started to join Arthur in battles, commandeering the elements to work as their ally. He stood tall and strong and imposing, proving himself to the people who were still having doubts about him just how powerful he was.

When a particularly long and vicious battle ended, however, it was up to Arthur not to let Merlin get lost inside of his power, to bring him back to his senses and to _Arthur_. He would shook Merlin out of his daze and brought him back to his tent and pressed kisses to him, sliding his hands over Merlin’s skin, and held him just a little bit tighter.

\-----

Merlin was curled up next to him, one of his arms was slung across Arthur’s stomach and legs interlocked with his. Arthur brought the hand that wasn’t currently curled around Merlin’s hips up, petting his hair gently.

There haven’t been many quiet moments like this, lately, and these moments allowed him to think. He looked down at Merlin, chest tightened in a sudden onslaught of affection and he was suddenly afraid he hadn’t give Merlin the happiness he deserved. He thought about the vision he had when he was in Merlin’s magic, then, about the dark-haired man that made Merlin laughed happily in their little hut. What if that was what Merlin supposed to have? To live a simple life with a partner who didn’t have to divide his attention to a whole kingdom and just spent his days with Merlin?

“Stop thinking,” Merlin mumbled, breath dampening Arthur’s shoulder.

“Wasn’t thinking,” Arthur replied petulantly.

“You were so. You were tensing and it felt like you were about to pluck my hair out,” Merlin grinned, opening one eye to look at Arthur.

Arthur didn’t know what expression he had then, but whatever it was, it caused Merlin to squirm in his hold and sat up, “alright, this seemed serious. What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” Arthur insisted, trying to pull Merlin back onto his chest.

“Arthur, come on…” he said, resisting his pull.

“It’s just…you know when you got trapped in your magic and I had to fetch you-”

Merlin nodded, not knowing where this would go.

“I saw this vision of you…you and this dark-haired man in a little hut and Merlin, you looked so happy and so carefree and it’s just…maybe you would be happier with him because I could not give you that. I can’t live with you in a little hut and let you be happy and carefree and use your magic without you having to look so cautious around those assholes and…”

Merlin didn’t let Arthur finish his sentence. He took Arthur’s face in his hands and kissed him long and purposeful.

“Oh you daft man,” he smiled softly to Arthur’s lips before diving in again, catching Arthur’s lower lip and sucked on it.

“You make me happy, you twit. You worked so hard to bring magic back and I never expect this to be an instant process but you smoothed up the road to the acceptance of magic and, Arthur, you have done so much,” Merlin said, moving to straddle Arthur’s hips without once breaking the kiss.

He ran his hands through Arthur’s hair, forcing him to look at Merlin in the eyes.

“And there is no other person I’d rather be with,” he winked, a shit-eating grin teasing on his lips.

Arthur felt heat on his cheeks, suddenly embarrassed.

“Shut up,” he mumbled before pulling Merlin down to him again.

\----- 

Morgana woke with tears filling her eyes and a sense of peace in her thoughts. It was a quaint feeling, indeed.

She could not remember much of what she had seen aside from a burning boat and a peaceful kingdom died out with age.

She wiped her eyes and laid back down, the future is too huge and uncertain for her to worry about right now, in the dawn of the day.


End file.
